In my garden, it seems Medusa
Forgot her venomous brood...
Now they lie limp, half-asleep
Like some hardened drunkards,
Dart and flutter their cloven tongues
In their odd hissy language
They hurl weary yet fiery slogans.
In taxonomy they should be shifted
To genus:Demon Class:Politicia.
Nestling cosy in a group of rocks
They crawl on each other
They hug and gently rub past
Their shiny black coily figures.
A curious one in the morbid lot
Seems to be interested in me
And draws out its imperious hood...
No thanks, I don't want to have
A taste of thy lustrous fangs
But I have an acquaintance
Who prepares good snake salad
Feeling dizzy already......
Boy! you are touchy!
Don't look at me like this, I advise
To a stone you may be hypnotized
Then you will wake up in a sadist's lab
O Tempter! Trust me as you trust an eagle.